This Pain
by phat-fish
Summary: CHAP 2 UP! High-school fic, 1x2,3x4. YAOI, lemons. Buckland State High has many secrets. Hearts will be broken, and bitter sacrifices made; because in the end, climbing the social heirachy is the only thing that will keep you safe.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing

Read away, please review and pleaseplease like it. Damn, I'm so sad, this is crap!  
Warnings: 3x4, medium swearing, violence in this chapter, 1x2 next chapter

**This Pain**

-

**_CHAPTER ONE_ – _Something Like That_**

A few gilded clouds still scudded across the sky, but daylight was fading fast. A towering, austere building embraced Trowa's shadow as he faded into the school's brick walls like a chameleon. Moving with sinuous ease, he flicked open his lighter and set the tip of a thin, black cigarette alight. Scanning the tarnished school grounds apathetically, he took a deep drag of his cancer stick. He closed his eyes, opening them just long enough to watch his exhale whorl and blend with the chilled air.

Jerking the lapels of his black jacket up, he glissaded down the bricks until he was slumped over in front of administration's double doors. Buckland State High never gave a shit if he shacked up for the night, and neither did his dad. The last of his ciggy baked out and Trowa stubbed it out on the concrete, puffing the ashes off his chest. After languidly folding his arms behind his head, Trowa had just started sinking into a light doze.

A strident shriek ripped him from his reverie. His eyes shot open and he bolted upright, instantly alert and scanning the campus for the source of that sound.

"No! Don't touch me! I don't want you, Daniel," a boy's voice grated harshly.

Trowa whipped his head around and narrowed his eyes. Daniel, one of Alex's bastard crew – by far more volatile than the rest, was forcing himself on some kid again. In a flash, Trowa was on his feet; cold, sweet anger whispering up his spine. He padded silently across the crude gravel. That douche, Daniel was the reason why most of Buckland's outfits had formed. If Heero had killed him that day, maybe laughter would still exist.

Advancing swiftly, Trowa saw the boy lose his footing and fall. Daniel clambered on top, a lustful leer glued to his face.

The kid thrashed about dementedly. "Stop, stop! Get off me, you dirty, gross"

A fierce crack split the air when Daniel slapped his victim, hard. The kid uttered a choked cry as his head was cranked to the side.

A smooth, deadly mask settled over Trowa's features, and he picked up the pace.

"Shut up! I tried being nice to you," Daniel snarled, clamping both of the boy's wrists above his head as he straddled him.

The kid's voice was trembling. "Stop it! You weren't nice, you were subtle! Please, Daniel g-get off me!"

Trowa's blood pounded icily between his ears. It would be easy to take Daniel; he was nothing but steroids and fat. Trowa circled around the pair with unnatural stealth, coming up behind the unsuspecting slob. Daniel slashed open the kid's shirt and slithered a hand down his bare abdomen.

"D-Daniel! _Stop!_" The boy screamed, his pitch bordering on hysteria.

Trowa's lip curled in disgust. By the time Daniel had sensed Trowa's presence behind him, it was far too late. Trowa's hand tightened like a vice around Daniel's bulging neck. Before the slow bastard had even begun frenetically squirming to his feet, Trowa had violently flung him backwards. He turned to watch him bounce and roll like a rubber ball.

Feeling a pair of eyes ogle the back of his head, Trowa inched around uneasily. Suddenly liberated, the slender blonde, who wasn't really a kid at all, had sat up and was gazing at him alluringly. He was lithe in build, sensuous, but innocent-looking. Pure platinum framed a beautifully-shaped face and brushed the tops of his shimmering, aqua blue eyes. His perfect mouth parted soundlessly.

'_Save it,'_ Trowa thought and pivoted around. A surge of contempt swamped him when he caught sight of Daniel's pallid, blubbering face. Blood bubbled from every lesion on Daniel's flesh and he looked like he'd contracted the Bubonic plague. The whites of his eyes stood out like beacons in the darkness.

"Sh-shit, what are you, Barton? Y-you can have him." Daniel spouted in horror, scrabbling backwards across the clumped dirt. "I-I didn't know he was your territory! I'm sorry man!"

Trowa regarded him indifferently. "Go home."

Daniel didn't need to be told twice. Shuddering violently, he hauled himself to his feet and staggered off into the night. Trowa slipped his hands into his pockets, ducked beneath the veil of his bangs and began gliding back towards administration. He didn't expect, or need thanks.

-

Too shocked to move, Quatre watched as his saviour straightened, mesmerized by the boy's streamlined form and rippling muscles. '_Hot'_, was the only coherent thought he managed to form in an entire minute, but then he realized his luminary was walking away.

"W-Wait!" Quatre yapped as the boy's back melted into the night. "Wait, Trowa" A cold blast of air hit Quatre square in the chest and snatched the last button off his shirt. With a startled yelp, he clutched the material and yanked it across his chest, shivering from the cold.

"Trowa…" he sighed the name like a sweet caress. If Trowa hadn't been there, Quatre probably would have been raped out of his mind. He hadn't realized Daniel would take it that far, hadn't thought the Senior would wait for him hours after orchestra practice.

That foul, sour mix of sweat and cheap cologne wafted up Quatre's nostrils, suffocating him.

All of a sudden, the floodgates on Quatre's emotions burst open and he slapped a hand across his mouth, hugging his knees to his chest. For months, Quatre had loathed coming to school. Everyday, he'd had to swallow Daniel's torment, his fondling hands, his own dignity, and everyday he'd had to feign he didn't care. Quatre dashed away hot tears, quavering slightly.

"I won't cry," he croaked weakly.

He hadn't cried when his millionaire parents had been reduced to paupers, or when he'd attended a school where every lesson was a threat to his existence. Duo looked after him, kept Alex's crew off his back, but Quatre couldn't stand it anymore. Couldn't stand playing the winsome prey. Biting his lip savagely enough to draw blood, Quatre blinked back tears. He rose to his feet, favouring the side he'd crushed when he'd tripped over a bit of curb. He'd just been rescued again. By Trowa Barton no less, a boy who was rumoured to use the school grounds as a safety gambit from whatever it was that lived at home.

Quatre sighed and gingerly broke into a light jog. Without warning, a jagged pain slammed up his right leg and crippled him where he stood. Eliciting a hopeless cry of despair, Quatre crumpled in a messy heap and moaned as the pain resonated in short, angry bursts up and down his leg. '_Oh Allah, what if I can't walk?_' Quatre groaned. Crawling to one of the rarely lit lamps, he propped his back against it, his face puckered in a disgruntled frown. Staying at school overnight wasn't an option; Alex might jump him first thing in the morning.

Quatre clung to the lamp column, pulled himself to his feet and tried a test step. And failed. Hot, nauseating pain burst up his leg and left Quatre doubled over and gasping for air. He cursed and raked a hand through his floppy bangs.

What could he do? Hopping home seemed to be the only recourse. But how long would that take on one leg?

Armed with tenacity and very little hope, Quatre began springing across the dirt. Soon, sweat was dripping off his chin and his knee was throbbing so intensely he thought he might pass out. Spying a lone tree in the school lot, Quatre hopped over to it and leaned against it to take a breath. When he looked around, delightful splotches of colour were capering across his vision and the whole world was sliding slowly to the right.

Strong, lightning-fast hands caught Quatre before he hit the ground. His lips parted in an inaudible sigh when those beautiful, exotic features materialized over him. Was he dreaming? He had to be. A sweeping, glistening arc veiled one side of the boy's sculpt face, leaving the left pool of liquid green exposed and startling.

"T-Trowa…?" Quatre whispered.

-

'_Stop looking at me like that,'_ Trowa thought uncomfortably and shifted the blonde in his arms for the third time in five minutes. It was unnerving, having someone gaze up at you with such pure trust and adoration. The boy's lips had settled into a soft, natural pout that Trowa couldn't take his eyes off. A fact that made him feel even more awkward.

Glancing fleetingly at the cherub, he slid to a stop. Number 23 was simple, elegant; there were no fist holes or graffiti. "Your house?" He suggested.

"Mm, but I – oh no! – I lost my key!" He flailed frantically, almost flinging himself out of Trowa's arms.

Trowa cursed internally, fighting not to lose his wriggling bundle. "Stop it," he barked coolly.

The small angel froze; hurt flaring in those bottomless blue eyes. "I-I'm sorry… I didn't mean to cause you so much trouble."

Confusion clouded Trowa's face. "Can you stand?" he asked tersely.

The blonde nodded like a whipped puppy. "Yes, I think I can…"

For an instant, Trowa hesitated to relinquish his delicate burden. '_What if he faints again?'_

"I won't break, Trowa."

Trowa looked up sharply. A small smile brushed the blonde's lips. His shining orbs dropped bashfully when their eyes met, but Trowa's pulse was already racing. He watched the boy's long, lustrous lashes sweep his soft pink cheeks, losing sense of time.

"Trowa?"

Trowa vacillated, and then hid his face as his cheeks flushed with heat. Without a word, he carefully lowered the blonde's legs to the pavement. He still burned with embarrassment, so he quickly began rummaging through his trouser pockets for a lock pick. After several minutes of useless meandering, Trowa was finally able to clear his mind enough to actually search for something he could use to pick the boy's front door with.

"I-I think I'm going to faint..."

Trowa raised his head, "huh?" He asked, distracted.

The guy swayed tipsily. Trowa grasped the blonde under the arms at the same instant he teetered forward and melted against Trowa's body. Trowa froze, breath hitching. He clasped the boy's slim shoulders to push him back, but the transit caused one slender thigh to slip aptly between his. A hiss escaped his throat as quicksilver pleasure raced through his body.

"Wake up," he growled at the blonde, lust deepening his voice. He closed his eyes as the blonde shifted against him. "Wake up," he tried again.

Unwilling to wait any longer, Trowa whisked the boy into his arms, coiled his momentum, and then kicked the door in. He tore through the house, swung into a random bedroom, and tenderly lowered his exquisite cargo onto the bed, retreating as swiftly as he had come.

Once he was back on the street of the destitute, Trowa jammed his hands into his pockets and seethed all the way back to the school grounds. Why did he suddenly burn for someone so innocent… so vulnerable? Trowa's breath whistled out between grit teeth as he summoned the image of that angelic face and slender physique. He let his eyes roam over the smooth, creamy flesh, but when his mind added him to the fantasy, Trowa swiftly banished it.

He didn't want him. He didn't.

Trowa stopped walking and glanced back at the house. But God, if his body was thrumming this wonderfully from that brief taste, what would it feel like to be inside him?

-

_The next day_

Light filtered in through Quatre's shuttered windows, testifying that dawn had indeed elapsed and Quatre still slumbered on peacefully. Watching the lightly snoring cherub, Duo rubbed his chin somberly. Quatre was never tardy, and he never slept in his nasty Buckland trousers.

"Poor Quat…" he mourned to himself, "wonder what's keeping him."

Blissfully sensing nothing amiss, Duo pounced playfully onto Quatre's bed, clamped a hand down on each of his quarry's shoulders and roared into his face, "WAKEY, WAKEY, RISE AND"

Quatre shot upright, "Gaa!" he gurgled, smacking heads with Duo the same time as Duo shrieked and fell off the bed.

Heart pounding in his throat, Quatre's eyes popped open. Terror churned deep within his belly as he swiftly scoured the alien walls. Where was he? How had he gotten here? As recognition dawned, the panic clotting his brain dissolved. Mystified, Quatre's brow furrowed. _'Why did I sleep in my parent's room?' _He wondered.

Duo peeked meekly over the side of the bed. When Quatre caught sight of him, he almost jumped a foot in the air. "D-Duo!" He breathed, almost blacking out from relief. "It's you…"

Cocking a dainty eyebrow, Duo bounded lithely to his feet. "Course it's me," he uttered, grinning like the Cheshire cat. "I'm here for your early-morning wake-up-call, mister. You're way late for class, by the way." He effeminately flipped his braid over his shoulder and began busying himself positioning a flash-card in front of Quatre's whacked ensemble of dolls. "Anyway," he jived, "I nicked these word-a-day flashies from English, so I figured the least I could do was bring you some. Oh, and no offence, but you really need a shower…" Duo trailed off as soft, heartbroken sobs permeated the room.

Quatre covered his face with his hands, trembling.

"H-hey…" Duo scrambled across the double-bed, his mind racing. "Q-man…" he stuttered, "what's up, what happened to you?" When the bub didn't reply, Duo caught his bottom lip between his teeth in worry.

He drew Quatre's algid form into an embrace. "Quatre…?" Duo pressed; more troubled than he wanted to admit when Quatre leaned into him, needing the caress.

"Duo, I'm so sorry…" his voice was a cracked whisper.

"Quat…"

Quatre's head snapped up, missing Duo's chin by an inch. His eyes flicked to the left of him as he desperately tried to escape the suddenly intense grip on his arms. "I-it's nothing, Duo," Quatre giggled hysterically. "Just… last night – that's all. You know Daniel? Yeah, you know Daniel. He waited for me last night, after orchestra, and he tried to rape me. It's silly, really…"

Duo expelled his breath in a soft snarl.

"…didn't even touch me, 'cause I was rescued before he got into my pants. I suppose you think I'm just being bothersome"

Duo's hands cinched down on Quatre's arms like a twin vice. He felt his nails pierce flesh, but he didn't care. Red swam before his vision. "Don't _ever _say that again," he hissed through clenched teeth.

When Duo looked into his friend's eyes and saw nothing but fear, his heart lurched guiltily, and he let go.

"I-I'm sorry…" Quatre muttered timidly. "Please – I shouldn't have told you – forget what I said.

"Shit. Quat…" Duo surged forward pleadingly, but the blonde recoiled against the headboard. "Please, I'm sorry Q-man, I'm not angry at you… I just…" Duo strove to marshal his raging thoughts. There would be time to murder Daniel later.

"I'm just sick of them – Daniel, Adam, Michael, whatever, always trying to rape us of everything we are."

"Duo…" Quatre spoke soothingly.

"You know I can't leave?" Duo continued cheerfully. "If I drop out of school, the Government will put me in Larude, where I'll probably get ass-raped ten times a day cause I'm such a girly-man."

Duo put his face in his hands.

"I hate this place, Quat," he muttered, his chest heaving. "I hate Buckland, but I can't leave. If I go, so does everyone behind me, and then so do all the little twelve-year-old's behind them. But fuck, Quatre, I can't stand being here anymore."

Quatre wrapped his arms around Duo. "Duo," he spoke softly. "You shouldn't be so sad… there are good people here – it's just…" he hesitated, "that the assholes among us, control us now.

Duo chuckled.

"And you know what?"

When Duo pulled back a little, his eyes held the controlled amusement of an elder brother. He tilted an eyebrow and quirked his lips, "What?"

"The guy who ran Daniel off and saved me – his name's Trowa. Duo, I… I think I love him."

Duo stiffened. Quatre started when Duo clutched his shoulders in a grip that hurt. "Trowa?" Duo rasped intently, pinning him with his eyes. "Trowa Barton?" _'No… not him.'_

"Y-yes," Quatre stammered shakily. "Why, Duo? Is that bad?

Duo squeezed his eyes shut. It hurt all the more because he'd seen true rapture flare in Quatre's eyes as he'd made the hopeful proclaimation. Fuck, this was a fucked up world. What kind of place didn't let people love each other? Grinding Quatre's bones in his hands, he muttered dejectedly, "No, you can't. You can't love him, Quat."

Denial flashed. "What?"

"I said you can't love him!" Duo growled. A knife between the ribs would have hurt less.

Quatre's lower lip quivered. "B-but you love Heer"

"No," Duo cut him off darkly. "Don't say that, Quatre, please. I never loved him; he was just a phase – like Trowa is to you now. You can't love Trowa, it's…" Duo's voice cracked, "it's just not legit, okay?" Tears filmed across his eyes, but he furiously dashed them aside.

"Okay, Quat?" He commanded, ignoring the stinging behind his eyes.

The colour in Quatre's voice had died when he spoke next. "Buckland even has rules for love, huh?"

"Something like that."

Quatre took Duo in his arms. Resting his cheek against Duo's hair, he turned his head and planted a kiss on the crest of Duo's hair. "It's so unfair."

"Yeah." Duo smiled humourlessly. "This pain, Quat," he muttered, "It's not going to stop. Not until we leave this place."

A loud, queer, gurgling sound filled the room. Shocked, Quatre pulled back, glancing around the room.

His questing eyes finally halted on Duo.

Duo blushed sheepishly, "or I get some chow, eh-heh…"

Quatre clubbed him on the head. "You're such a drama-queen. I hate you, Duo I thought you were going to commit suicide or something."

"Aw, but I _was_ contemplating suicide, I swear…" Duo whined as Quatre continued smacking him on the head.

"Whatever Duo, I'm never trusting you again. Pain, my ass."

-

**THE END OF CHAPTER ONE**

Next chapter: Duo and Heero spar 1x2, Quatre ignores and hurts 3x4, Alex's crew steps in and rumbles happen


	2. So Prove it

Disclaimer: Don't own Gundam Wing

Warnings: Sorry, I couldn't fit in 3x4 this chap, cause 1x2 took up WAY too many words. LEMON, medium-heavy swearing

Last chapter: Quatre got attacked by Daniel, but Trowa saved him. When Quatre told Duo he was in love with Trowa, Duo forbade it

Thanks sooo much for reviews guys! They motivate me so much; I'm addicted to them

**This Pain**

-

**_CHAPTER TWO – So Prove it_**

Wufei's nails scored the wooden arms of his chair as his father prattled away to an illustrious partner on the telephone. His rage, swirling like smoke in his belly, rose steadily upwards and pooled in his guarded ebon eyes. Everything relied on this moment, everyone relied on him. If he unleashed his temper, he'd never get to say what desperately needed to be said.

His father, Woping, smacked the receiver home and swiveled around, his flat, resentful black eyes mocking Wufei with their distrust. Taking long, militant strides, his father stormed up to Wufei and loomed bare inches from his face. His hand, as monstrous as every other part of his body, closed callously over Wufei's bare shoulder and quelled a morose, guttering flame of hope.

"That was Buckland on the phone, Wufei," his father confirmed, "they called to discuss your antics in class today that left an older boy and a teacher quite distraught."

Wufei choked on his own saliva and stared at the carpet incredulously. It galled that that prison had the malice to say such blatant lies, knowing it would reach Wufei's ears unchecked.

Then he froze suddenly, they had, hadn't they? A brief chill coursed through him, curdling his blood.

"Wufei," his father rumbled, his voice laced with the barest sympathy. "You've had an unpleasant childhood, I know that. But that's no excuse for starting fights in the playground. I won't let this slide like I have your other eccentricities."

That placid, deadpan face doubled the rate with which Wufei's heart began to smash spasmodically against his ribcage. His blood, once a hot, healthy pulse in his temples, crawled lazily through his veins like glacial sludge. _Does he know? _Wufei wondered numbly. Did he access the place like every other disturbed fuck that gamed there?

"Buckland had suggested that I leave you in their exclusive care for a week." His father raked a hand raked through his silvered black hair, "and I think I agree that it would be best to leave you in Buckland's facility to rehash your priorities and get these bitter suspicions under control."

Woping's voice was fatherly; a gentle admonishing tone that was suitable for the depth of the reprimand, but his eyes, cold and calculating, scrutinized Wufei's face for some sign of anger, of denial. Wufei gave none.

Because suddenly it had become very important not to make a wrong move. Suddenly, his life depended on how swiftly he agreed with Woping, how guilelessly he obeyed.

It all made sense now, the flashing disgust he had glimpsed every time Woping looked at him. For years, Wufei had thought it had been his doing, his nature that had placed that cold mistrust in his father's eyes where there should have been loving affirmation. But no. A tremor rocked Wufei as that phantasm of a loving, naïve father, dissolved, into the insulting emulator that oscillated before him.

"Once you've gotten past these delusions Wufei, I'll be able to enroll you wherever you like. But until then, I expect you to follow Buckland's advice and pack whatever you need for a week of private contemplation."

Wufei hid the cold blaze of hatred that raced across his eyes. _Private contemplation? _How could that institution spew so many ruthless lies in such a meager space of time?

_I didn't do this to myself dad! I didn't! Mr. Dathurst tied me down and_

_Stop, Wufei! You're not healthy… you can't keep making up these stories… _

Wufei smothered a mirthless chuckle. Woping had always been so quick to agree with his tormentors, so quick to agree that the rope burns and teeth marks were justified by the need to restrain Wufei when he was lost in the throes of his paroxysms; a tragic side-effect of his mental affliction.

"Son?"

Analyzing the lies that had crowded his life, Wufei locked eyes with Woping and mustered a savage, empty smile. "I'll go get my things, dad."

-

Singing boisterously enough to wake the dead, Duo sashayed out of the shower with a gym towel swathed turban style around his head. He knotted a beach towel at his hips and cheerily slapped on a pair of thongs, moving with the casual grace that befitted his happy-go-lucky nature and lithe, supple body.

Duo beamed at his rumpled reflection in the mirror, and then, somewhat gingerly twisted around to examine his tender, rubescent back. Sub-arctic plumbing had resulted in most of the showerheads blasting his back with a spray of icicles, but it didn't matter. Life was sweet. Sure, the festy towels and chronic abuse had dampened his mood a notch, but there was so little that could cache Duo's frolicsome personality for long.

Giving an exulted trill at the top of his lungs, Duo skated into the change rooms and executed a fancy pirouette. Halfway through his twirl, however, a dark figure hit the corner of his peripheral. Distracted, Duo forgot to move his head with the rest of his body and caught the edge of a flip-flop on his left calf. Uttering a strangled squawk of surprise, Duo crashed to the tiles in a pile of arms and legs.

"Only Heero," Duo muttered from his disposition, jerking off his thongs. _Only Heero can make me look this stupid. _The turban around his head unraveled, and Duo found himself sitting in a pool of disheveled chestnut.

Sure enough, Heero turned around, and his white shirt fluttered open to display that perfect, streamlined physique. Duo licked his lips. An icy shiver of anticipation whispered up his spine as his eyes reigned over the smooth, lean planes of Heero's chest and belly. The narrow window of silky olive skin teased a memory Duo had locked away three months ago and the onslaught of flashbacks that followed were mind-blowing. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like to have those strong, slender hands glide over his skin, corrupting… and caressing.

"Duo?" Heero's voice, husky with a molten edge, tore Duo from his guilty pleasure.

Not even half as apprehensively as he felt, Duo flipped to his feet and tossed his hair over one shoulder with a graceful flourish. "Heero," he greeted with cold civility. "Didn't expect to catch you here." The words slithered off his tongue with practiced perfection. Well, they better of, given the interminable hours he'd wasted rehearsing with poor, pliable Quatre.

The molten edge in Heero's tenor hardened. "I did," he rejoined flatly. "I could've heard you from a mile away."

Duo had the grace to blush, but he muttered, a bit half-heartedly, "why'd you stick around then, hmm?"

As the silence spun out between them, Duo stopped juggling his list of 'next possible cutting remarks' and began to drink in Heero's image with an insatiable thirst that caught him by surprise. For he hadn't looked, hadn't really _looked_ at Heero, for three long, heartbreaking months. And now, those sapphire eyes, always so hesitant to express, looked hauntingly beautiful in that perfectly rendered face. High, sculpt cheekbones circled his eyes with sensual fluidity, and his dark, unruly hair both shadowed and framed those gorgeous features. His sensuous mouth moved again.

"See something you like, Duo?"

Duo tensed hatefully. "Yes, it's behind you, I call it, 'uniform.'"

A deadly smirk whispered over Heero's lips. "Really?" he purred. "Too bad, I think I like you better this way."

Duo's heart made a crazed galumph for his throat. _Right, Heero is just joking, right? Of course he is, Heero knows not to break-dance on thin ice. _Pulling his lips back in a cloyingly sweet smile, Duo retorted tartly, "What _you_ like is of no consequence to me, Superman; now get out of my way, please."

The seductive throb in Heero's voice froze him in mid-stride. "And if I don't?"

One moment, Duo was glaring daggers at Heero from halfway across the room, and the next, the hard planes of Heero's body were pressed up against him. A flooding weakness rushed through Duo, jostling aside his fears and inhibitions as Heero wrapped an arm around him and pulled them flush. Duo inched toward that parted, tantalizing mouth, had Heero already forgotten what had happened the last time they got it on? He flicked his tongue out timidly, tasting the sexual heat simmering between them. _Shit, what am I doing? _

Startled by the instant of clarity, Duo took a step back, shaking. Heero's familiar, intoxicating scent floated away, and he felt the loss of it as sorely as he felt the bleeding wound in heart. The devastation he'd felt three months ago hadn't waned and faded away as he'd hoped; if anything, it had made his anguish much, much worse.

"Look, Heero," Duo said testily, "I like you and all, but you're pushing your luck, what we had in the past is over. O-v-e-r. In fact, I think you're coming on way too strong, you should lay off the steroids or something."

The caustic response didn't seem to affect Heero at all. Duo staggered backwards as Heero came for him, his eyes glazed with a combination of lust and pain. "Steroids don't thicken temptation, Duo."

Duo wheeled back frantically, putting up his hands. "Ah, sure, whatever that means, I mean but we, uh… Heero?"

A high-pitched whimper burst up his throat when his shoulder blades smacked cold steel and Heero pinned him there. "I want you, Duo," the soft, sexy growl wreaked havoc in Duo's groin, strangling his meek little protest and then drowning it in a bucket of lust.

Caught between the wall and Heero, Duo panicked and tried to punch him off, but Superman caught his wrists and took sadistic pleasure in fastening them over Duo's head in one lazy, effortless grip.

"P-Please, Heero! What's wrong with you?" Duo hated the tremor in his voice but his body was pleading with him to give in to desire. The notion scared him badly, how could he? How could either of them even _think _of reliving that torture? "Heero if we're caught they'll… don't you remember what they said they'd do?"

Heero tilted his head until his lips rested against Duo's neck. "I remember what they said," he purred slowly, "And I don't care." The layer of protection, Duo's beach towel, slipped away, and Duo hissed as Heero thrust his hips up against him and swayed leisurely.

"_Fuck," _Duo croaked. He couldn't concentrate, couldn't focus… alarm bells in his head were ringing like crazy, but the delicious flood of sensation in his groin had shut off all rational thought.

"Heero," Duo gasped through a haze of pleasure. When Heero withdrew an inquiring inch, Duo made a mad leap for the opening he had left. The complete nonchalance that greeted his smooth recapture infuriated him as Heero pinned him again with that ridiculous superhuman strength.

Duo squiggled like an enraged worm. "Why are you doing this, Heero? Let-me-go! I thought… I thought we agreed that this couldn't go on! You're a senior! I'm meant to serve you, there's no mutual ground, _remember?_"

For a triumphant moment, Duo thought he had wriggled free, and then he felt Heero slacken and lean against him, as if all his strength had suddenly fled.

"Heero..?" Duo hesitated. The hand that had been holding him captive whispered down to cup his cheek, and Duo eyes grew wide as Heero pressed a tender kiss to his forehead.

Heero's voice was thick with emotion, "I don't care anymore, Duo…" he murmured.

At a loss for words, Duo just listened while Heero nipped lightly at his shoulder, sending a stream of involuntary shivers rolling down his back.

"What they want, what they want me to do, it doesn't matter anymore." Heero lifted Duo's chin to gaze into that endless sea of emotions, "all that matters is what I want, Duo, and I want you."

"Oh, Heero," Duo whispered.

It felt wonderful to have that soft, silky mouth nuzzling his. So strange to need that gentle, flicking tongue to plunge inside his mouth and caress him until he burned. Suddenly Duo was being shoved into an empty changing cubicle and pinned to a brick wall. He moaned intensely against Heero's invading mouth, digging his nails into Heero's back as carnal desire wreathed through him.

"Heero…" Duo breathed.

Heero growled throatily. Why was Duo putting up so much resistance? Coming up for air, he gazed deeply into those violet spheres that shone with ardent passion. Duo looked breathtaking, slim and ivory and draped with a shimmering veil of water.

He surged forward, hands closing over Duo's smooth shoulders as he reclaimed that hot, sweet mouth. He caressed Duo's nervous, flicking tongue with his, effectively silencing the talkative boy, but now that Duo's hands were free, they teased with merciless passion. Duo slid his hands over Heero's chest and shoulders to remove his shirt, and then he fluttered them skittishly down to his navel and brushed against his thighs.

"Duo," Heero hissed when Duo's hands glided playfully under his boxers.

"Take me, Heero… I need you inside me," Duo's silvery, musical lithe was tinged with desperation as his hands caressed in slow, luxurious strokes.

"Please, Heero," Duo moaned and eased Heero's boxers past his hips.

"Duo…" Heero growled huskily, threading a hand through a glittering waterfall of hair so that he could cup Duo's head and look into his eyes. "Are you sure?" He had to know. Had to know that Duo really wanted this, wanted him.

He expected Duo to say no. The blow still hurt when Duo indicated they should stop. "Yes – I mean," Duo hiccupped frantically, "just, wait a sec, will you?"

Duo dropped to his knees.

Uncertain of what to expect, Heero waited. When a hot, wet sheath enveloped his length completely, the blinding sensuality nearly drove him through the wall.

Staggered by the height of his pleasure, Heero shot an arm out to steady himself against the wall of the cubicle. "Duo!" He blurted, shaking.

Duo popped up innocently, wiping at the corner of his lips. But when he caught sight of Heero's face, his smile bloomed savvily. "You like that, huh?" he chuckled, "I was just supplying lubrication."

Heero stared at him incredulously. _Just? _

Before he could ask Duo to teach him that neat little trick, Duo's eyes narrowed, and he hooked his creamy, muscled arms around his neck. Trapped in Duo's smoldering gaze, Heero felt all his surroundings bleed together like wet paint, until it was only him and Duo, standing on a white plain.

An L-shaped bench extended from the cubicle walls and Duo settled himself languidly in the corner, resting one leg on each side. "I mean it, Heero," he murmured, drawing Heero between his legs. "Fill me; I'm so hard I won't feel any pain."

Heero nodded compliantly as Duo's spicy scent washed over him. Pressed against Duo's opening as he was, he slowly slunk both hands down Duo's quavering sides until they rounded beneath his ass. _Rough, _Heero remembered, _Duo always liked it rough. _

Lapping at the silky skin of Duo's swanlike neck, Heero halted only to whisper into his ear. And then, without any preparation, he raised Duo's slender body into the air and slammed into him.

A rapturous cry spilt from Duo's parted lips and he flung his head back as Heero, shaking from the sensations that crashed through him, tried to regain control of his body. He hadn't anticipated the sudden euphoria that filling Duo would flood him with, and he trembled as Duo's creamy thighs clenched around his sides and began to ride him.

_Fuuu "uuuuck!" _Duo exclaimed as Heero gently thrust into him.

"Are you alright, Duo?"

Duo opened his eyes with intense dislike. When he saw Heero motionlessly watching him, he cried out in exasperation, "Yes! Don't stop, Heero!"

The shocked look in Heero's eyes was instantly replaced by a fierce hunger. Miffed that Heero had suspended his glorious pleasure cruise, Duo lifted his ass and slammed it back down on Heero's hardness to give him a lesson. _That _got Superman moving. Heero's hands clutched Duo tightly against him and he plunged into Duo with remarkable marksmanship.

Duo saw sparks. Or… wait, were they butterflies or fairies? A tumultuous roar of pleasure crashed into Duo's body and surged through him in endless waves of sexual furor. Crying out, Duo lifted himself up and matched Heero's thrusts perfectly as though they were one entity.

He clung to Heero's taut, trembling back like a lifeline as Heero hit that hypersensitive spot over and over again, sending ripple after sensuous ripple of exquisite pleasure shuddering through him.

"Heero," Duo gasped between moans, "I-I love you… so much."

For an instant, Heero's flat, metallic glare almost sobered him.

Then, Heero wrapped one hand around Duo's neglected maleness and began to pump him. "You talk too much, Duo."

Their rhythm flared wickedly and so did the building pressure in Duo's arousal. As he rode those narrow hips faster and harder, meeting each precise thrust with wild elation, he put Heero's cruel rebuff out of his mind. It was easy to forget as they raised higher and higher, soaring up the pinnacle of their euphoria as Duo's voice lifted in a lilting crescendo.

"Faster, Heero!"

Heero's hot, vehement mouth closed over his and all those talented sensory conductors began flooding him with pleasure all at once.

And then, with one resonant cry, they topped the vertex of sexual climax. At first, nothing happened. Duo floated around happily; senseless, thoughtless, like a celestial deity on a white nimbus, until everything, _everything _came crashing down.

Duo arched his back and screamed, "_Heero!"_ as an avalanche of pure, brutal pleasure flooded his groin and exploded outwards with blinding quicksilver speed. Hot, gushing sensation poured into every fiber of every muscle, and distantly, he heard another voice snarl his name, but he was far too gone to care. Duo came violently, his entire body shuddering with the intensity of his climax as Heero's essence streamed into him.

"Duo… you're so beautiful…"

Too exhausted to register the words, Duo smiled blissfully as he slackened into sweet, golden pleasure.

-

A content silence elapsed between them.

Duo woozily opened his eyes, sweeping the steel cell uncomprehendingly. The oppressive feel of the high walls, grey and foreboding, was broken only by a door teetering on its ancient hinges, showing a thin sliver of the public change rooms. Then, with a shock, Duo realized Heero was still leaning over him with one arm braced against each wall, breathing shallowly.

"Heero!" Duo chided as he slipped off the bench and went to him. The muscles in Heero's arms were quivering with strain, but they still wrapped around him securely and squeezed Duo until he elicited a small squeak.

Standing up on his tippy-toes, Duo propped his chin on Heero's shoulder contentedly. They had a few minutes before the whole junior soccer team would come pouring in from the oval, but Duo planned to begone, longbefore that happened.

An inaudible sigh treaded over Heero's lips as Duo relaxed into his embrace. It was extraordinary how merely holding Duo in his arms was beginning to heal the emotional scars. He purred contentedly.

Then Duo jolted in his arms.

"Duo…?" Heero asked, puzzled.

Duo jerked back, and started shaking. At first, Heero felt only a glimmer of apprehension, and then the warm glow suffusing Duo's eyes began to fade and for the first time in three months, Heero remembered how tofeel afraid.

Duo had turned deathly pale.

It was him. If there had been a hierarchy among students, Alex and his circle, which had pioneered the elegant betrayal of Buckland's hapless students five years ago, would've been the nobility. Alex, lean and brown-skinned, lay against the doorframe carelessly, boring into Duo with his bland grey eyes.

An arctic chill stole his breath away like a python constricting around his throat, creating a violent tremor in his bones. "H-Heero…" he stuttered, outstretching an arm to point behind him.

Alex, alone, was responsible for contriving the intricate network of spies that flirted among them; he was cold and merciless and living among the top guns of Buckland had honed his taste for cruelty. He was the only person in the school Heero wouldn't challenge unless he was forced, but now that Alex had exposed them, Heero would have to take him down.

Except… Heero wasn't turning around.

"Heero?" Duo mumbled, confused. "I-It's Alex, Heero – he's here, he's seen us, wh-what are we going to do?"

Duo yelped as that tender, safe embrace constricted and became painful, locking Duo's arms against his sides. Asharp stab offearmade Duo wriggle uneasily, "Heero?" he fretted, his forehead furrowing in a frown. "Heero, it-it's Alex, he's s-seen us…"

"I know," Heero's voice was cold steel.

Shaking his head in flat denial, Duo ground out, "no, Heero, he's right there, he-he's just st-standing there, w-watch-ing us." But as he yammered on blithely, his words became more and more fragmented by Heero's lack of response.

Trembling harder, Duo looked up at Heero searchingly. He raked that smooth, apathetic mask for a subtle flaw, a telling stigma, but there was none. Like his eyes, his face was cold and unrecognizable. _No, he can't be one of them; he wouldn't do this to me. _"Heero?" he whimpered.

Heero's glare wounded him. A brittle cry burst from Duo's lips when Heero seized a length of his hair and callously snarled it around his hand. Twisting around, he articulated in a smooth, cutting tone, "I don't appreciate you interrupting my game, Alex."

"_No…"_ Duo begged bleakly as his vision dripped with tears. "Not you, Heero, please…"

"Shut up," Heero snapped and gave him a fierce yank. Searing pain ripped across his scalp, but it was nothing next to the utter desolationleftbybetrayal.

Ironically, Alex's voice, tinged with doubt, rallied the fragile hope Duo had been nurturing, that Heero wasn't completely encroached by the Dark Side. "You, Heero? You're changing sides? I don't believe it."

"Then don't. I fucked him; and I liked it. Think whatever you like."

The anguish that answer kindled in him was swiftly banished by an overwhelming blaze of anger, and he thrived on the strength it gave him.

Alex, ever benign, brushed thick hair the colour of a raven's wing, out of his eyes and rubbed his chin. "You're saying you just used him? It meant nothing to you?"

Liquid midnight flashed in Heero's eyes. "Yeah, what of it?"

The corners of Alex's lips rose in a small, satisfied smile. "So prove it," he challenged, taking a step back as if to invite a performance. "Prove to me, that this junior was nothing more than a quick fuck – No, better yet," Alex's cruel smile bloomed, "Give me an example."

-

**THE END OF CHAPTER TWO**

Thanks for encouraging me!!! You guys ROCK

Next Chapter: Alex, Heero and Duo get in a mess; Quatre and Trowa have trouble resisting


End file.
